Scandal
by Maria Lynette
Summary: Lucius makes good on his promise to get Hermione alone behind closed doors. Part III in the Lift series.


Scandal

Life is blessed with a myriad of simple, sweet pleasures that make the unfortunate snares and errors of it worth enduring. Among Hermione Granger's favorite pleasures were inhaling the fresh scent of new leather-bound books, the feel of a sandy beach underneath her bare feet, and the warm taste of an occasional cigarette on a brisk winter morning. Experiencing any of these simple moments never failed to send subtle waves of euphoria washing over Hermione like a soothing shower of warm water.

Her response to all of these little pleasures paled in comparison to the power that Lucius Malfoy's rich and precise voice had to completely captivate her senses. Three weeks after the incident in the corridor, she finally stopped fighting the feeling and began enjoying the way that his cultured tones hypnotized her like a seductive song.

An open portfolio of notes sat before her. The meeting was well underway, but she was blocking out all voices except for one. Her eyes were unseeing, her body was deathly still, and her mind was being lulled into entrancement. She held a quill loosely between her fingers while it dripped ink all over a report that her secretary had only just prepared for her. The disgruntled woman jerked the parchment away from the offending quill, which prompted Hermione's world to snap back into focus. She wondered how long Lucius had been staring at her before realizing that everyone was staring at her.

As soon as Hermione spotted her father-in-law checking his pocket watch, she understood that they were all waiting to be dismissed. Blushing slightly at the realization that she had no closing remarks prepared, she stood proudly and announced, "Gentlemen, I must hurry to an important appointment. This meeting is adjourned."

Lucius stopped by the door of the now empty room, waiting for Hermione to acknowledge him. As soon as she brought her eyes up to meet his determined gaze, the door slammed shut with a quick flick of his wand.

He smirked at her and stated, "You don't have an appointment, Madam Minister."

She readily agreed, "I don't have an appointment, Mr. Malfoy."

Lucius knew that the witch standing in front of him would give him whatever he wanted, but he chose to revel in his considerable enjoyment of the moment before approaching her. For him, simple pleasure meant seeing that timid look in her wide eyes as confirmation that he held all of the power while he stood between her and the locked door. In that brief moment, she was his perfect angel who made his penchant for playing role of the rogue worthwhile.

The stubborn way that she stood silent in the face of his forceful seduction made him desperate to intimidate her even more. He needed the alluring tension to play out for as long as possible, but Lucius knew that it was coming to a crashing end when Hermione set her jaw and narrowed her gaze.

His twisted illusions of control were shattered when she crossed the distance between them and unsheathed his wand from the opulent walking stick clutched in his left hand.

She placed it safely inside of the satchel that was hanging on her shoulder.

Hermione's blissful numbness intensified when Lucius grasped her shoulders and pulled her flush against his broad chest. He closed his fingers around her tense left hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her soft palm before licking his way to her ring finger. With his gaze locked onto hers, he slowly sucked the finger into his mouth. Her pleasure was made apparent to him when the tension fell out of her hand. Responding to her quiet, feminine whimper, his tongue massaged her finger for longer than was strictly necessary before he tenderly slid her platinum wedding band off of it with his teeth. The slight scraping of teeth against skin sent a shiver down Hermione's back, which put a sly grin on Lucius' lips as he held the symbol of her marriage in his possession.

She hissed, "That doesn't change anything."

"Of course it doesn't, Hermione. I know that I could get you to fuck me while still wearing it, but I'm tired of looking at it on your otherwise lovely hand."

He slipped the ring into her satchel and said, "Let's place your weapon in here with mine, shall we?"

Coming to her senses, she snatched her hand out of his loose grasp. "That's not what I meant, and you know it. We can't do this here. It's grossly inappropriate."

He chuckled and backed her against the table. "It's also incredibly convenient, and I promised you that we would be alone behind closed doors, did I not? The meeting is over, the door is locked, and not a soul comes in here this late in the day. You want me, and I want you. I refuse to wait any longer for the inevitable."

Hermione's response was weak. "No."

"Then give me back my wand, witch. We are done here. Do not expect me to make this offer again."

Hermione deliberated with herself for a moment as Lucius reached for her bag. Her desire for him to stay was far more powerful than her dislike for the idea of committing immoral acts with him on the boardroom table. She suddenly tossed her satchel out of his reach. It landed in a chair with a thud as she sat on the edge of the table and pulled him over her quivering body.

He eagerly responded by grabbing her legs and wrapping them around his waist. His hands then found their way to her skirt, pulling it slowly up her thighs just before covering her waiting lips with his own. Without shedding any clothing, they worked up their lust almost to the point of release with the slow, hard grinding that accompanied their exploration of each other's mouths.

Lucius couldn't stand to wait any longer, but Hermione stayed his hand when it moved to free himself from his trousers. From the incendiary look in her eyes, he understood what she meant to do and growled in response to her wanton behavior. Making quick work of his buttons, she licked her lips in anticipation as Lucius practically plucked her from the table and pushed her to her knees. As she drew his hot, hard cock into her mouth, she breathed in his manly fragrance and moaned at the intoxicating sweetness of it.

Her moan drove him to mad passion, and he tangled his fingers into her wild hair and began thrusting erratically into her mouth. As the sensation of her warm tongue massaging his length became too much for him to contain, he called out her name with his release. The feel of her throat constricting as she swallowed caused him to shutter with pleasure one final time, and he held her in place for a moment before lifting her back onto the table.

Before she knew what was happening, he was between her legs like a moth to a flame. She giggled when his cool nose found her warm clit before his tongue did, but the giggle turned into a cry of delight when he began using them both to stroke and massage her. When he removed his hands from her bottom and brought his fingers to her core, she went over the edge without warning. Arching her back violently, she buried Lucius' face deeper between her legs while her orgasm rolled through her.

Lucius produced a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped his face. Rejoining his new lover, he patiently raised her blouse as she unbuttoned his shirt. Even though they knew that their time was running short, they both wanted to experience a fleeting moment of feeling their flushed and naked skin rubbing together.

He whispered, "Show me what you want."

In response, she playfully rolled over and slid off of the table. Placing her hands on the hard surface, she bent herself over it. Smiling at the realization that she still wore her leather pumps, he nudged her legs apart with his knee. He then leaned over her and lovingly kissed a naked patch of glistening skin on her back as he slowly buried himself inside of her for the first time. She clawed at the tabletop, and he captured her hips in a firm grip. What followed could only be described as a quick, hard fuck.

HG**LM

While the lovers lay lingering on the table, a brown beetle scampered silently out of the room through the slight space under the door.

Rita Skeeter's favorite pleasure was juicy gossip, but she had actually been snooping around the Ministry for a real scoop. She had successfully gained enough inside information about the latest legislation concerning conditions at Azkaban Prison to write a decent article, but a Ministry scandal involving two of Wizarding Britain's most prominent citizens was an even better story. After all, Rita had once made a promise under duress to Hermione Granger that she would always report the truth.


End file.
